For The Glory Set Before Them

By Matt Karlov

A short story of Kal Arna.

"I am Barais neb-Ohel, combat sorcerer under Captain Shansherai. We are summoned to fight and die in service to the All-God and to all Kefira, home of our fathers.

It will, I am told, be glorious."

Widower, diarist, and mediocre sorcerer, Barais neb-Ohel makes an unlikely soldier. When his squad receives orders to reclaim a much-contested fortress from the hated Gisleans, Barais is thrust into the forefront of a long-running war. But the squad's numbers are few, his own abilities are desperately limited, and as their journey progresses he finds himself questioning the rightness of their cause.

For The Glory Set Before Them is a meditative military fantasy which will draw you deeper into the fascinating world of Kal Arna.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Imago Mundi Press
• Release date: May 27, 2016
• ISBN: 9780992570132

Matt Karlov

Matt Karlov has been writing speculative fiction for more than ten years. He likes subtle, intricate plots, characters who keep you guessing, and stories that ask the big questions without telling you how to answer them. Matt has been a software designer, a web developer, and a business analyst. He lives in Sydney, Australia. The Unbound Man is his first novel. Visit www.mattkarlov.com to discover more about Matt's writing and the world of Kal Arna.

Book preview

For The Glory Set Before Them

A short story of Kal Arna

Matt Karlov

Imago Mundi Press

For The Glory Set Before Them

Teshan 19, 609th year of the Second Tabernacle

My name is Barais neb-Ohel. I serve as combat sorcerer under Captain Shansherai, among whose squad I am accounted the eighth and least. We are summoned to fight and, I have little doubt, to die in service to the All-God and to all Kefira, home of our fathers. It will, I am told, be glorious.

I beg the indulgence of whoever finds this account to convey it to my brother, Kelus, my only living relative. You will find him at the High Tabernacle, praying on behalf of all who petition him.

Perhaps, on the day you give him this, he will pray for me.

Abigal is dead, my brother. I have meant to write you those words every day since cruel illness snatched her from me, yet I look up now to find almost a year has passed since my wife’s death. It is, I know, a harsh way to break the silence between us, but I would rather end it thus than permit it to endure any longer. My own death now looms before me, Kelus, and I fear it; yet I find the fear strangely cleansing, as though scales were being scoured from my eyes. Would you take it amiss if I asked the All-God to try you as he is now trying me? Perhaps you would be better able to bear it than I.

We march for the fortress of Ramoth, the captain said, looking at each of us in turn. I would like to say that I held her gaze, but in truth I found it impossible to look away. The captain uses her eyes like swords, guarding and attacking in a single motion. They are hard, impenetrable; two chips of slate dividing her soul from the world.

Though the sun was already three turns past its zenith, we broke camp at once, setting out along a narrow, much-contested road which for the present lies on our side of the border. I spent most of the afternoon’s march beside Talmai. Some of the others shun me, as I suppose they would any sorcerer, but